Filed under: generic text, i feel like bitching, poetic blah, snobby shit | Tags: annoyed, cold, poetry, weather
I apologise for my bluntness, but there was nothing more annoying, more blatantly chilling nor more disturbingly potent in the early hours of this morning and, in truth throughout the entirety of today, than that purest of evils, the weather. Poetry, on the hand, is always good for the soul, if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyway, my weather-specific opinion stems from a number of reasons, which I have decided to outline below in a semi-concise list.
1. The decisively negative effects of a rapid, unexpected drop in temperature upon ones ability to escape from bed. This is a particular favourite of mine, as it has had a time-tested and most certainly undeniable impact upon my life. My earliest memories involve hours – or possibly nagging-extended minutes, it’s hard to tell which – spent huddled under covers as Mother and/or Father made repeated trips to my bed in an attempt to extract me from the silky warmth of thick winter sheets. What I could never understand was the importance that they seemed to place in something called ’skewl’, and how I had to attend. I still haven’t managed to grasp the importance of this bizarre ritual.
2. The potential of said weather to change between the hours of ‘home exit point’, ‘lunch point’ and ‘home entry point’.
Another of my favourites. Would you believe that I came into contact with this loathe-some thing today? 6:25am – very, very cold. 12pm – OMFG, I do believe my skin is burning. 12:15pm – Bought cheap t-shirt to replace the jumper which had seemed so essential at 6am.
3. ‘Instant-Runny-Nose’ Phenomenon.
I believe this is something we must all be very, very aware of, as it can be extremely hazardous to health. I personally am often stricken by this terrible ailment, and verily I pity any poor bugger who sits next to me, in front of me or frankly within the general vicinity of my nostrils on any form of public transport.
I think that’s enough for now. About 4.9 minutes ago I was forced to remove myself from my chair to journey to my room to search for a pair of woolly feet-socks and a jumper, because I was cold. I blame this and my ineffable cynicism for this tortuous and long-winded post.
Of course, girls that sing like boys, boys that sing like boys, girls that sing like girls, and frankly anyone that falls somewhere between those cracks are also require. Of course, when composing the prior title I was speaking specifically about Jeff Hanson, who is quite amazing. The perfect music to perform that feet-back-to-earth move which is essential after a bizarrely enjoyable night out… the cure for deathly hangover… and the perfect accompaniment to a cup of tea.
There will never be anything as specifically powerful as a gender-fucking musician… the pure femininity and beauty of Antony (of Antony and the Johnsons), the oft-androgynous energy that spills over from any image of Mick Jagger, the pure rock eroticism channeled by one of my favourite locals, Kristy Apps, the unforgettable Bowie, and the unexpectedly angelic voice escaping from the soon-to-be-wed man that is Jeff Hanson, are but the first few examples that spring to mind.
Sadly, although these artists are, in my mind, all totes fantastic, I don’t believe I heard a single song from them during my travels through the cosmos of Fortitude Valley last night. Of course, I can’t claim to have been visiting the most music-orientated venues… ergh, the places I was attending last night were kinda trashy. Although they were filled with many, many attractive peoples of various shapes, sizes and genders, all of whom are most likely lovely, brilliant and possibly spectacularly original human beings, my general consensus upon entering one of these institutions is that far too many people are dancing. Sure, dancing is fun… but it should be administered in small, controlled doses by a qualified practitioner.
In reference to my opinions on dance, listen to another persons opinion… a rather famous person, actually, Mr Stephen Fry. His recent podcast, ‘Bored of the Dance‘ download, addresses this isses rather meaningfull. Enjoy.
Until next time… До сведания!
I’ve started on a list of my favourite cafes around Brisbane. This is mostly for my benefit, but in case you’re looking for somewhere that is guaranteed to be both fun and yummy, check out the list.
So I’ve had a lovely, lovely saturday so far. I had a rather late night out in the Valley on friday following Brendans’ fantastic ‘Future Orphans’ birthday party, and resultingly I didn’t particularly feel like doing much of anything.
The day therefore began with the usual cup of tea, yoghurted muesli, and random music (first up, The Beatles – Revolver, followed closely by something from Donovan, some Kanye, a taste of Patrick Wolf, and then Elbow’s Asleep in the Back ). A game of Bagh-Chal (online version here) began somewhere near the end of Patrick, continued all the way through Elbow, and then was interrupted by a phone call from some acquaintance of Duncan’s. At this point in time, I checked my watch, realised that the only thing I had possibly planned for the day – the attendance of UQ Union Council – was coming up rather soon, and decided it was time for me to pop out.
I made a sort of half-hearted effort to attend, making it as far as the Cultural Centre – which I think is a very worthy effort – before deciding to instead find myself some coffee and peace of mind. This was muchly thanks to the very apt guidance of Jon, who happened to be going in that generally quite specific direction and discouraged me from following him.
This turned out to be the best thing that had happened all day, as I ended up heading to Woollangabba to check out a cafe that I’d passed a few weekends earlier on the way to a Ма́сленица celebration. I dropped into a few shops on the way and was almost captured by the enchantments of Caro Mio, but thankfully I somehow managed to make it to my destination, as Pearl Cafe turned out to be everything that had caught my eye, and more. The Courier Mail review, which I just discovered, is absolutely spot on. Everything about Pearl Cafe screams elegance, from the attentive floor staff to the old-world presentation. The coffee was excellent, too… not the best I’ve ever had, but definately a cut above the rest.
After half an hour or so of coffee loitering, mostly involving the Review section of the Australian, I made the usual comments, left, and began a walk up Vulture St. Past the Gabba I discovered Dan Murphy’s and, obviously, had to drop in. I’m not a wine snob by any means, but I have recently developed a taste for Tempranillo, a beautiful red spanish grape. I enquired… they shrugged, and found me 2 bottles. In their entire collection. Ehh…
It was all summed up for me beautifully by one of the floor staff, an older man who looked like a manager-type. ‘Not many people like Tempranillo, so we don’t really have any. … I know it’s a great wine. But it’s not very popular, so we don’t have it.’ I walked out with a $9.60 Tempranillo that I was assured tasted fantastic. Hrmph.
Global Economy: 1 – Tim: 0.
Filed under: generic text
So, having decided that it was fruitless for me to attempt the study of Russian History at home – owing mainly to the lack of sourceable and/or reliable information available on The Internets – I have made the trip to SLQ (State Library of Queensland). This place holds a lot of memories for me, from the multitude of hours spent aimlessly playing on the piano (prior to public discovery) to those fateful final minutes on the never-ever-long-enough 2 hour computer sessions.
But this time, I am not here for some aimless folly… I am here for research. And, would you believe, that if you order in books, whatever you wish, whatever you need, from their boundless storage section before 2.30pm, that you will recieve them by 3.00pm? The glory!
I think I’m in love. Damn.
Why does it always have to be the soulless machine that I fall in love with?
*sigh*
Oh my.
I nicked this from Another Irani Online, an interesting blog that I found through Raed in the Middle, Raed Jarrar’s excellent blog.
Filed under: musik
Thanks to my beautiful friend wayne, who is now in england, I have much music that I haven’t yet listened to. There is a little that is disagreeable to my taste. The rest is fantastic.
Particularly fantastic, as I have now personally discovered, is Elbow.
Ciao.
Filed under: generic text
I suppose it’s about time I got serious about my blogging. I’ve tried a number of times – probably 5 now. Everything from poetry, to contemplations of ideas and concepts that were out of my philosophical grasp, to entire blogs that omitted capital letters in a statement of difference.
But, why?
I really don’t see the point in trying to be something that I’m not. I suppose I could, you know, edit the beautiful appearance of my page, or put lots of lovely photos up, or link myself to a billion other people. But how would that make the content of my blog, my opinions, myself more worthy?
I think it would detract from my worth.
Anywho. Bed calls.
I’ll write something in the morning. Maybe I’ll remember my dreams for a change.
